Big whoop, right? For me it is, when I seem to move at a slower pace than the rest of the world. For a long time, I heard Instagram is where it’s at, whatever “it” means (still processing)—but I did finally catch up in this social media race. Give me space to tiptoe on my own and I’ll eventually get there (said the tortoise to the hare).
Instagram. You can follow me there, here:
On an early morning walk this week, a great white heron flew in front of me. I felt the flush of wind from its powerful wingspan—it was that close. I might be misidentifying this magnificent creature, but I do know it was not a color-morphed junior—the thing was gigantic and entirely white, no black legs or darkened bill. I suppose I should have been startled by its sudden presence, but I stood in awe as it glided across my path at eye level and then soared skyward. I could have been envious of the bird for its freedom and fearless flight. Instead, I wondered curiously what the view was like up there over the treelined marsh in this Sweetwater valley of Tennessee.
I grew up mostly (or mostly grew up, haha) on Fidalgo Island in Washington State. I used to hike to a couple special spots just to watch the heron(s) in complete harmony with earth, water, and sky. I’d sit for hours as one would move in stately silence, fish with purposeful patience, pass from complete focused stillness to the majesty of commanding aviation in a blink. Strong birds. Confident loners, I somehow took comfort in watching them. Never before have I seen a white one, though, so this unexpected recent encounter was extra special.
There’s an inclination I have to read symbolism in everything, see a spiritual sign beyond the physical, spot an allegory. Probably stems from my Judeo-Christian background, and this nature is quite strong in me. My sister/BFF says that I walk between two worlds. Because it’s true, my mind and heart were heavy and I was seeking God that morning. Though my feet were firmly plodding forward on the path, my cognizance was somewhere else completely. So now I ask what, exactly, is the Lord saying to me? Herons in Hebrew culture represent long-suffering, wisdom, and protection, are forbidden to be hunted or eaten. Early Christians believed herons shed red tears when under stress and their emblem came to represent Jesus’ agony of sweating blood in the Garden of Gethsemane. Yet somehow there seems to be more here, something else I’m not perceiving.
“The Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.”—Romans 8:26
Or maybe there wasn’t meaning in that encounter at all. Maybe that moment was just meaningful in that the heron was neat to look at and nothing else hinges there. Maybe I read too much into things. Except, as the week continues to churn, images of the white heron paint my mind in pure flashes and I’m inspired and hope-filled and utter thanks to the Lord. Regardless and always, God is sensitive, compassionate, merciful, and good. I trust him. And I certainly appreciate that he created that standout heron.
Now back to my chips-n-salsa which I also appreciate. You see? Two worlds, lol.
The Tree Lord is a soul snatcher, but Arekel is one soul he hadn't anticipated.
Arekel becomes the chosen of her world to stop the Tree Lord menace from expanding his domain of Deadwood. Embarking on the fretful task, the young maiden learns that she alone holds the key to destroying the Tree Lord’s malevolent heart. There’s just one other problem. She’s fallen in love with him.
God peels me like an onion, one layer at a time. He does this in his great mercy. For if he chopped right through, the tear-invoking transparency would prove too painful, pungent, messy. He examines an outer peel and then another deeper, bringing each to my awareness in its own time. Carefully measured, scored, then added to his percolating soup of life, enhancing its savor, adapting my palate to become more like his palate. God is a mystery and deals with me in peculiar ways.
One of my personal favorites in The Brother's Keep novella series, Wind's Aria, has been rereleased and offered at a lower price. So, if you have not yet read this story, grab yourself a copy. You won't be disappointed if you like romantic, lyrical, allegorical fantasy. This also happens to be novella #1, the launch in the 8-novella series - so, it's a good place to start. Here is a recap of the overview:
Elected as the Songstress, Aria takes her place on the sacred platform to sing before every dawn. As long as she does so, peace and abundant life belong to her people. One morning, amidst a strange wind that brings with it a curse in its eerie howl, Aria loses her ability to make music. But the encroaching death that transpires isn’t her biggest tragedy. It’s that she adores the cause of her blunder, for he’s a magnificent winged creature who’s stolen more than her voice.
Get your copy on:
I love it when a story grips, giving a lasting effect, don’t you? I’ve just finished reading, The Blood Gospel, another influential book added to my personal favorites list. The plot is heavy yet thrilling with a clever tie-in of history to fiction. Archeology, religion, prophecy, legend, mystery, symbolism, and good versus evil – I thoroughly enjoyed this loaded book. It was a thought-provoking trip from realism to paranormal, and an adventure from Israel to Rome, to Germany, Russia, and back. I’d also found the dark yet noble Hungarian Sanguinist priest, Rhun Korza, undeniably appealing. I’m going to have to read the next in the series and have already ordered a copy.
Next, Strindberg’s Star, I’d read last year – and I still think about the novel. There is something within it haunting me. I’ve never read a more peculiar yet intriguing book that I seemed to understand completely. The author, Jan Wallentin, wrote in a postscript, “In the few places where the novel diverges from reality, it’s the reality that ought to change.” This novel was so entirely engrossing I didn’t always know which was which, reality or fantasy, nor did I care. That’s a great book!
Happy reading of your favorites; May you discover many more books to add to your personal list – maybe even one of mine.
A mockingbird has made itself very comfortable outside my bedroom window. A bird that never sleeps, it sings endlessly. Many times I awaken, my internal clock telling me it’s time to arise, the sun is about to crest, while the mockingbird chatters. But it’s only 1 AM. The bird tricks me. If I could be as incessantly joyous as this nightbird sounds…
With a contented smile, I rest my head back on the pillow. The bird’s song is beautiful, and the energetic melody reminds me that somewhere on this blue planet the sun is always rising. Dawn is imminent, and so is the hope renewed in my heart for a fresh and glorious day.
“By day the LORD directs his love, at night his song is with me—a prayer to the God of my life.” Psalm 42:8
Once, during my early balletic days, a director appointed me to a challenging role, instructing me to dance, said, “With attitude, Darling.” What he meant – what I learned – was to dance with complete heart, sense, and purpose; to abandon myself in that role. Since flamenco is such an individualistic art form, yet this particular discipline is still fairly new to me, I often hear those words of early advice trickle up from the deep recesses of my memory. I’m finding my voice, so to speak, my stylistic language within the flamenco context: to mean what I say. What I’ve added to my Bucket List, however, and what I yearn to do, is express flamenco in a worshipful/liturgical/Christian piece and venue. I believe in possibilities and have a vision for that day. In the meantime, here are a few pictures of my continuing, enriching education toward a flamenco dream.
Full of allegories and metaphorical images, the Bible confers the Holy Spirit as a gentleman. I tend to think of him as such.
He might, at some point in our lives, implement something. I’m not saying he can’t. God is God. But for some reason, I see him more like somebody who waits quietly at the door, eager for the person on the other side to open. He may tap, but if that person doesn't want to open the door then he is respectfully silent, unconditionally loving, hopeful one day that individual will want him, and graciously waits to be invited before he draws near.
I adore this perceived aspect of the Holy Spirit and believe it’s a good model for many areas of life, the ins and outs, interactions, relationships, and career paths. Well mannered and considerate…a perfect gentleman.
Ice Dancer's Hold, novella #4 of The Brother's Keep inspirational fantasy romance series.
Now on Amazon.
A beautiful slave named Sasha holds the hidden power to destroy Master Kilian once and for all, along with his reign of terror. Instead, she openly sacrifices herself, silencing her own authority, deep within his arctic fortress. The question is, why? Now, among the confusion, evil prevails.
This is "a different kind of inspirational romance." But I wouldn't have it any other way. ;) Hope you love it. Cheers!